@-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;---
** SPOILERS FOR EP. 40 AND ON **
@-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;---
The Calling
By Moonsong
tsukinouta@yahoo.com
Part 5: A Fighter's Heart
THUMP!!
"Again!"
THWAP!!
"Harder!"
THUNK- CRASH!!!
Silence.
After a few moments, Tamahome blinked, eyes fixed on the wreck of
a practice bag in front of him.
"Ne, sensei..." he began, his voice wavering slightly, "was that
good enough?"
Lan stared at the pile of sand and cloth littering his once clean
dojo. Dourim was going to have a fit when she returned.
"H-hai..." the older man began, trying to hide his astonishment.
By Suzaku, HE'D been trying to get that bag down for WEEKS, let
alone explode the thing all over the floor. He eyed his young
student with growing respect.
The boy mistook his silence for anger. "Ah... gomen, sensei. I
can clean it up."
Snapping out of his reverie, Lan looked up and met the boy's eyes
squarely. "No apology needed. You've done well!" A smile lighting
his lips, he walked over and patted the young seishi on the back
sharply, causing him to cough.
Lan smiled. "I think that's enough for today. Why don't you come
with me into town to buy materials for a new bag?"
Tamahome's eyes brightened. "Hai!"
~*~*~*~*~
The trip to the market was a relatively uneventful one. Tamahome
waited just inside one of the cloth stalls, wide eyes gazing at
the rare silks and brocades. His family could never afford to
shop here, let alone buy canvas from such an obviously wealthy
merchant. He took it all in, as a starving man would a palace
feast.
Lan finished paying for his purchase and caught the boy's
expression. "Something wrong?"
Tama jumped, surprised. "Iie, it's just that these are so
nice..." His words faltered when he spotted a familiar figure
pushing a heavily laden wheelbarrow out in the road. He froze in
fear and pushed closer against the heavy fabrics.
Alarmed, Lan squatted on the floor next to him, trying to find
out what was wrong. "Kishuku..."
The boy's eyes were frightened. "Tousan..."
Sharply, Lan raised his head and had no trouble picking out the
boy's father making his way down the street. Quickly he moved
slightly between his student and the doorway, partially blocking
it from view.
"He's on his way to the other side of the market. I highly doubt
he saw you."
The boy didn't respond. Exasperated, Lan sighed and grabbed the
Tama's arm, yanking him out from where he was practically buried
in the soft silks.
"Come on!" he hissed, keeping his voice well out of the
merchant's hearing range. "Is that any way for a seishi of Suzaku
to act? Are you going to panic every time something unexpected
happens?"
The mention of Suzaku's name awakened the boy's senses, as Lan
had hoped. Whirling, Tamahome wrenched his arm from his teacher's
grasp.
"Iie."
The fire was back in his eyes. Trying not to smile, Lan forced
his features back into a stern glare.
"Just for that, you will have to race me home. And with one of
these strapped to your back!" Smirking, Lan help up the smaller
of the two bolts of cloth he was carrying. "You think you're up
to it, little seishi?"
Tamahome's eyes narrowed with mirth. "You're on."
~*~*~*~*~
The brat was winning. Cursing, Lan puffed a bit harder and
pushed his taxed legs further. He HAD to catch up with the little
dark-haired imp laughing a few feet ahead of him. Damned if he
would actually let him WIN.
"Sensei!" the imp taunted. "You're getting old!"
Lan growled under his breath and shifted the bulky cloth to a
better position on his broad shoulders. It wasn't fair. The boy
had a smaller bolt. Of course he'd be faster. Studiously ignoring
the annoying voice in his head reminding him he was far older
than the boy and therefore should have the bigger load, he pushed
on.
As expected, the younger seishi reached the tree first. He was
leaning on the broad trunk, a triumphant smirk on his innocent
face, by the time his huffing teacher caught up. Lan took one
look at his face and growled. Ignoring the boy completely, he
shouldered the cloth and disappeared into the house...
... only to retreat again red-faced. Clutching the canvas, he
waved the boy off in the direction of the river, following after
him in a stumbling run. Behind them, the door to the house
slammed open.
"HAHM LAN-UAN!! You get back here and clean this mess up this
instant!"
With renewed vigor, Lan pumped his legs, laughing at his fuming
wife. He easily passed a now-winded Tamahome and skidded to a
stop at the riverbank.
A few minutes later, he was lounging on the other side of the
river, watching amusedly as his pupil staggered into the
clearing, holding the bolt of cloth in his arms.
"What took you so long?"
The boy glared. "Dourim-san caught up with me and told me to kick
you when I got here."
The feral smile on Lan's face grew wider. "Then you're going to
have to come over here and do it then."
Tamahome blanched, his eyes following the raging current up to
that confounded branch his teacher liked to call a bridge. 'Not
again...'
Stretching out on the opposite bank, Lan yawned and arranged
himself comfortably on the grass. He knew what was going through
the boy's mind and chuckled, lips falling into a devilish smirk.
"Don't fall."
~*~*~*~*~
That evening found Lan out on the porch, in his hands- a cup of
tea sending out wisps of steam into the cool night air. His
thoughts roved over the day's events, stopping when they reached
memory of what happened at the cloth merchant's. Sipping his tea
with a slight frown, he remembered the appearance of Kishuku's
father, and the boy's reaction to it.
Tamahome had been frightened. He had cowered on the spot the
second he saw his father. Lan shook his head. That would never
do.
A soft whisper of cloth alerted him to her presence.
"Are you thinking about Tamahome?"
"Hai."
He turned briefly and set the cup down, allowing her to float in
his arms. Her scent was of the woods and wildflowers, surrounding
him, calming him, as she nodded and held him gently. After a few
moments, he spoke again.
"We saw his father in the marketplace earlier..." he paused.
"And?"
Lan broke away and started pacing, frustration lining his sinewy
frame. "He FROZE. He just stood there and HID. How is he supposed
to protect the miko if he's afraid of his own father?"
Quickly, Dourim moved to calm him. "He is young still. He'll
learn."
Lan stopped pacing and leaned back on the rail. "He has enormous
potential. But I'm afraid of what will happen if his family
doesn't support him in this. Even though he wants this enough to
defy his father and be trained, he might falter later on."
Dourim quietly joined him at the rail and tilted her face up
towards the stars. "Then his father will have to be dealt with."
"Hai."
With that, Lan gently placed an arm around his wife's shoulders
and followed her gaze to the stars. Suzaku couldn't have chosen
wrong. One way or another, Tamahome's father had to be made to
understand.
~ TBC ~
Author's Notes: Ugh! I'm just glad this chapter's over! Feedback
onegai! tsukinouta@yahoo.com
Credits for this go to Felicia, aka Tomo no Miko, whose site I
used to get the info regarding Tokaki, such as his real name,
etc. *bows* Visit her site at:
http://www.sempai.org/~felicia/fushigi.html
Thanks to Quicksilver as always and Saishi for the beta, also to
everyone who's encouraged me with this fic. Arigato minna! *hugs*
Disclaimer: All original materials belong to their respective
owners. Fushigi Yuugi belongs to Watase Yuu and a bunch of big
companies. No copyright infringement is intended. The story is
mine and I would appreciate an email asking me for permission
before posting it anywhere else.
Copyright © October 8, 2000 by Moonsong. All Rights Reserved.
http://www.midnightrevolution.org/moonsong/
** SPOILERS FOR EP. 40 AND ON **
@-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;---
The Calling
By Moonsong
tsukinouta@yahoo.com
Part 5: A Fighter's Heart
THUMP!!
"Again!"
THWAP!!
"Harder!"
THUNK- CRASH!!!
Silence.
After a few moments, Tamahome blinked, eyes fixed on the wreck of
a practice bag in front of him.
"Ne, sensei..." he began, his voice wavering slightly, "was that
good enough?"
Lan stared at the pile of sand and cloth littering his once clean
dojo. Dourim was going to have a fit when she returned.
"H-hai..." the older man began, trying to hide his astonishment.
By Suzaku, HE'D been trying to get that bag down for WEEKS, let
alone explode the thing all over the floor. He eyed his young
student with growing respect.
The boy mistook his silence for anger. "Ah... gomen, sensei. I
can clean it up."
Snapping out of his reverie, Lan looked up and met the boy's eyes
squarely. "No apology needed. You've done well!" A smile lighting
his lips, he walked over and patted the young seishi on the back
sharply, causing him to cough.
Lan smiled. "I think that's enough for today. Why don't you come
with me into town to buy materials for a new bag?"
Tamahome's eyes brightened. "Hai!"
~*~*~*~*~
The trip to the market was a relatively uneventful one. Tamahome
waited just inside one of the cloth stalls, wide eyes gazing at
the rare silks and brocades. His family could never afford to
shop here, let alone buy canvas from such an obviously wealthy
merchant. He took it all in, as a starving man would a palace
feast.
Lan finished paying for his purchase and caught the boy's
expression. "Something wrong?"
Tama jumped, surprised. "Iie, it's just that these are so
nice..." His words faltered when he spotted a familiar figure
pushing a heavily laden wheelbarrow out in the road. He froze in
fear and pushed closer against the heavy fabrics.
Alarmed, Lan squatted on the floor next to him, trying to find
out what was wrong. "Kishuku..."
The boy's eyes were frightened. "Tousan..."
Sharply, Lan raised his head and had no trouble picking out the
boy's father making his way down the street. Quickly he moved
slightly between his student and the doorway, partially blocking
it from view.
"He's on his way to the other side of the market. I highly doubt
he saw you."
The boy didn't respond. Exasperated, Lan sighed and grabbed the
Tama's arm, yanking him out from where he was practically buried
in the soft silks.
"Come on!" he hissed, keeping his voice well out of the
merchant's hearing range. "Is that any way for a seishi of Suzaku
to act? Are you going to panic every time something unexpected
happens?"
The mention of Suzaku's name awakened the boy's senses, as Lan
had hoped. Whirling, Tamahome wrenched his arm from his teacher's
grasp.
"Iie."
The fire was back in his eyes. Trying not to smile, Lan forced
his features back into a stern glare.
"Just for that, you will have to race me home. And with one of
these strapped to your back!" Smirking, Lan help up the smaller
of the two bolts of cloth he was carrying. "You think you're up
to it, little seishi?"
Tamahome's eyes narrowed with mirth. "You're on."
~*~*~*~*~
The brat was winning. Cursing, Lan puffed a bit harder and
pushed his taxed legs further. He HAD to catch up with the little
dark-haired imp laughing a few feet ahead of him. Damned if he
would actually let him WIN.
"Sensei!" the imp taunted. "You're getting old!"
Lan growled under his breath and shifted the bulky cloth to a
better position on his broad shoulders. It wasn't fair. The boy
had a smaller bolt. Of course he'd be faster. Studiously ignoring
the annoying voice in his head reminding him he was far older
than the boy and therefore should have the bigger load, he pushed
on.
As expected, the younger seishi reached the tree first. He was
leaning on the broad trunk, a triumphant smirk on his innocent
face, by the time his huffing teacher caught up. Lan took one
look at his face and growled. Ignoring the boy completely, he
shouldered the cloth and disappeared into the house...
... only to retreat again red-faced. Clutching the canvas, he
waved the boy off in the direction of the river, following after
him in a stumbling run. Behind them, the door to the house
slammed open.
"HAHM LAN-UAN!! You get back here and clean this mess up this
instant!"
With renewed vigor, Lan pumped his legs, laughing at his fuming
wife. He easily passed a now-winded Tamahome and skidded to a
stop at the riverbank.
A few minutes later, he was lounging on the other side of the
river, watching amusedly as his pupil staggered into the
clearing, holding the bolt of cloth in his arms.
"What took you so long?"
The boy glared. "Dourim-san caught up with me and told me to kick
you when I got here."
The feral smile on Lan's face grew wider. "Then you're going to
have to come over here and do it then."
Tamahome blanched, his eyes following the raging current up to
that confounded branch his teacher liked to call a bridge. 'Not
again...'
Stretching out on the opposite bank, Lan yawned and arranged
himself comfortably on the grass. He knew what was going through
the boy's mind and chuckled, lips falling into a devilish smirk.
"Don't fall."
~*~*~*~*~
That evening found Lan out on the porch, in his hands- a cup of
tea sending out wisps of steam into the cool night air. His
thoughts roved over the day's events, stopping when they reached
memory of what happened at the cloth merchant's. Sipping his tea
with a slight frown, he remembered the appearance of Kishuku's
father, and the boy's reaction to it.
Tamahome had been frightened. He had cowered on the spot the
second he saw his father. Lan shook his head. That would never
do.
A soft whisper of cloth alerted him to her presence.
"Are you thinking about Tamahome?"
"Hai."
He turned briefly and set the cup down, allowing her to float in
his arms. Her scent was of the woods and wildflowers, surrounding
him, calming him, as she nodded and held him gently. After a few
moments, he spoke again.
"We saw his father in the marketplace earlier..." he paused.
"And?"
Lan broke away and started pacing, frustration lining his sinewy
frame. "He FROZE. He just stood there and HID. How is he supposed
to protect the miko if he's afraid of his own father?"
Quickly, Dourim moved to calm him. "He is young still. He'll
learn."
Lan stopped pacing and leaned back on the rail. "He has enormous
potential. But I'm afraid of what will happen if his family
doesn't support him in this. Even though he wants this enough to
defy his father and be trained, he might falter later on."
Dourim quietly joined him at the rail and tilted her face up
towards the stars. "Then his father will have to be dealt with."
"Hai."
With that, Lan gently placed an arm around his wife's shoulders
and followed her gaze to the stars. Suzaku couldn't have chosen
wrong. One way or another, Tamahome's father had to be made to
understand.
~ TBC ~
Author's Notes: Ugh! I'm just glad this chapter's over! Feedback
onegai! tsukinouta@yahoo.com
Credits for this go to Felicia, aka Tomo no Miko, whose site I
used to get the info regarding Tokaki, such as his real name,
etc. *bows* Visit her site at:
http://www.sempai.org/~felicia/fushigi.html
Thanks to Quicksilver as always and Saishi for the beta, also to
everyone who's encouraged me with this fic. Arigato minna! *hugs*
Disclaimer: All original materials belong to their respective
owners. Fushigi Yuugi belongs to Watase Yuu and a bunch of big
companies. No copyright infringement is intended. The story is
mine and I would appreciate an email asking me for permission
before posting it anywhere else.
Copyright © October 8, 2000 by Moonsong. All Rights Reserved.
http://www.midnightrevolution.org/moonsong/